Snapshots
by CHAILYN
Summary: Slash. A series of Vignettes in the Winchesters' lives & loves. This Is What You Do To Me. He was a different sort of man than the usual to traipse into her bar.
1. Coffee & Ciggarettes

_Disclaimer: Nope, don't own supernatural or the poem._

_Note: This series is my new slash toy. All parings will be popping up...what can I say? I love diveristy in my fandom. This is going to be a series of slash vignettes._

_**Snapshots**_

**Too much Coffee & Too Much Cigarettes **

_O' God it's wonderful_

_to get out of bed_

_and drink too much coffee_

_and smoke too many cigarettes_

_and love you so much _

Their life wasn't perfect, he knew that. Sometimes it was a living, breathing, walking nightmare. Sometimes he thought about what the easy way out would be,

He lay in bed, in some crappy motel in the middle of the continental U.S. and thought about what the easy way out was. Flooring the gas and driving into the thruway barrier at a couple hundred miles an hour? It had been tempting sometimes.

No one knew it, but he sat there for hours after Sam left and considered it, it seemed like a very real possibility. He couldn't handle the broken heart anymore.

He pumped the clutch, and pressed his foot down on the ignition and as soon as it jumped forward, he slammed his foot back down on the brakes. He wasn't sure if the screeching shudder was running through his body or hers.

Even if he wanted to die, how could he do it to her? She was the only one he had that never caused him pain. She was always there for him.

She built him up, and Sam tore him down. It was the way it had always been, but as long as he has her…he thought maybe he could survive.

* * *


	2. This Is What You Do To Me

_Note: So, tweaked things. A little. I know I specified the Winchester's lives and loves, but I've been itching to do this one for forever, and it ties in. Sorta. No slash this chapter, and just a heads up, I think I'm going to try and get a solid mix of both for the following chapters._

* * *

_**Snapshots **_

**This Is What You Do To Me**

_But there is one_

_She can't put her finger on_

_There is one who never leaves her thoughts_

_And she thinks his name was John._

_--_Reba McIntire; She Thinks His Name Was John

_--_

"John. John Winchester."

Bill brought in a lot of hunters. Hell, who was she kidding, hunters were just about the only people who came to the Roadhouse anymore.

"My wife, Ellen." Bill introduced her to him, grabbing two beers from behind the counter, and handing one to John.

John nodded his head, taking the beer and giving her a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Ma'am." He averted his eyes from her, popping the cap from the bottle and taking a swig.

John Winchester wasn't the usual brand of man her husband brought back home. He was a quiet man, didn't laugh about what creature they'd jut ended, polite enough to call her ma'am, and didn't drink like the Prohibition was on its way back in.

On the surface, he was a handsome man-as handsome as a hunter as Bill had ever brought back, for certain. John had a ruggedly tired look about him but there was a sort of dormant spark in his eyes that she couldn't deny. He just radiated a charisma that was impossible to ignore.

She was sure that more than a few females-both too young to know better, and plenty old enough to know well enough-had made themselves into fools over those broad shoulders, deep trusting brown eyes, and husky voice. He was the sort of man a woman would spill her soul out to, and more than likely find herself waking up to an empty bed.

"I'm going to go and see to that baby girl of mine." Bill clapped John on the shoulder, exchanging a look that obviously meant something to them, and walked on back.

"Staying for dinner, John?" Ellen breached the question as normal as she would to any other man her husband brought home, but a hitch in her chest seemed to betray her even tone.

John shook his head, looking up at her with a smile that was warm enough to melt ice.

"Thanks, Ellen." John took another swig from his beer. "But I'm afraid I can't."

She grinned knowingly. "Got a girl waiting on you?"

A look she couldn't entirely discern passed across John's face. Maybe not.

"Boy." He explained with a smile that just about made her forget that she wasn't foolish woman-a level headed, reasonable woman who didn't go weak in the knees with a touch of charm from a handsome man . "Two of them, as a matter of fact."

Ellen hadn't expected that. She swore, the damn things that her husband just didn't bother to tell her…

John pulled out his wallet, and dug out a folded up picture that he passed to her.

She surveyed the picture. Kids were the last thing she'd expected…but people had a habit of surprising you.

"The little guy is Sam, he's just turned six. That there is Dean, he's ten."

They were…adorable kids, but the one thing Ellen really noticed wasn't that John

Winchester had a couple beautiful looking kids. What she noticed was the difference between the picture and the man standing across from her. With his boys, the smile went all the way to his eyes; she was right, it was a smile that could make a woman forget just who she was.

"Beautiful kids…" She passed the picture back to him, and was surprised to see he was already getting up.

"I best be on my way." John outstretched his hand, taking hers and she ignored the unusual spark she felt. "It was nice to meet you finally, Ellen, especially after hearing all I've heard about you from Bill."

"Nice to meet you too, John."

She watched him walk out, and realized after he was gone that he stuck a ten under his half empty bottle. She'd be dammed; a hunter who actually paid. A hunter…a father…she'd be lying if she said she wasn't just burning to know what brought John into their world with two little boys

Ellen knew she was right, John Winchester was one hell of a mystery, and it would be too little to admit that she was hoping that hadn't been the last she'd seen of the man.


End file.
